RPlog:Near Capture
Eson's visage is cast in the glow of an igniting cherry on the tip of a cigar jutting from his parched and thin lips. He sits on a park bench, out of the way and unseen, datapad in hand, information spreading across the screen about the whereabouts of the two sentients that departed the Telgorn assault shuttle. And more information spreads along the screen, detailing the tall, booted and corseted female as a known past or present lover of Tritus, proprietor of Gundark Industrial. A slight smirk spreads across those crimson lips then as a tasty morsel indeed walks so close to home. The pale man accompanying her, however, comes up with little. "Let’s send our friends a little note." he decides audibly into the comlink on the face of the datapad. He takes another liberal puff on the cigar, tattooed lekku tightening around his shoulders and then relaxing. Walking along the park's trail is indeed one of the two sentients from the Telgorn shuttle. Dressed in the style of olde, she slowly walks through the park upon a path. Casting a glance here and there, she takes in the various plants, in bloom and otherwise. Her stature is relaxed, yet alert; she pauses to watch some wildlife in action. There is shading along the left jaw line, suggesting that perhaps makeup was used to lessen the sight of a rather angry bruise. The cloak is pushed from her shoulders, revealing in its full glory her slender figure in the outfit she chose. Turquoise eyes peer out, studying other figures on the path as she walks past them. Her companion decides to stop at a food vendor and purchase his meal, leaving her to wander farther into the park, along the winding path. A few Twi'lek younglings on hover boards are cruising through the park up the path ahead, laughing as they go. The lead is a blue skinned boy casually dressed, and following him is another green skinned youth perhaps 13 or 14 years of age in appearance. Continuing her walk and enjoying the cooler weather of Etti IV, along with the natural presence of moisture, she stretches a little. Once there is strain on a certain tender area, the woman casually stops, but there is no sign of discomfort. Looking ahead, she smirks as she sees the Twi’lek youths on their hover boards. Choosing to take the next turn, she continues her walk, her gait is easy and graceful, one could also say well balanced. Ash pauses as she is passing a beautifully laid flowering bed. She turns to take in the sight and an easy smile comes to her lips. Seeking the closest available bench, she takes a seat, shifting the cloak so that she does not strangle herself. The corset does not give much option in her sitting options, so she is seated properly as she takes in the living art before her, appraising the contrasting colours with a discerning eye. The Twi'lek youths continue up the path, but veer off to play amongst themselves for a moment while Ash continues along another path. After she is seated, however, they make their way toward her again, choosing the path that takes them near her bench. One of the younglings has a piece of paper in his hand as he goes, and he steps off of the hover board and approaches Ash casually, smiling. He holds out the paper as he goes, "Lady, this is for you." he says in strained and simple Basic. She smiles pleasantly as the Twi’lek youth start down her path, she only casually looks them over before returning to view the garden. However a brow quirks as one steps off his hover board and approaches her. Nodding towards him, and studying him keenly, the ex-employee of Gundark slowly stands to accept the note from the youth. Caution taints her movement, as does a guarded curiosity. "Who is this from?" she speaks very slowly to the youth in basic, sensing that like another that she had recently met, he is probably just learning how to command the language. "I dunno." says the blue Twi'lek, before turning and jumping back onto the hover board. "A red." is all he says of the notegiver before making down the path with his companion in tow. : The note reads: Upon a bench sits one who seeks your audience. One platform to the left under the artemis tree. "A red," she purses her lips as the blue youth gets back onto his hover board and joins his friend. Opening the note she reads it and a slight snicker can be heard. She looks for the Artemis tree of which is upon the spoken platform. Calmness takes her, and she becomes reserved, and yet curious as to who this red one is. Her movement is still graceful as she starts towards the platform where this bench is and the apparent figure waits. Her eyes scan the area more alertly, hating the fact that she's away from Tatooine and still not able to relax. Arriving atop the platform she starts to cross over to the bench, eyes still searching, until she allows them to fall upon the lekku-tattooed form of the red Twi’lek. She nods her head politely to him, "Greetings, Mr?" her voice is friendly enough, as is the smile upon her lips. She studies him and compares him to other red males that she has come across. Tyy'sun is really somewhat wretched to behold up close, his skin a mottled, parched crimson instead of the normally smooth and sensitive skin Twi'lek are known for. He sits on the park bench, one arm along the edges of the top of the metal thing. Smoke wafts around him carrying with it the faint hint of spice. Blue-grey orbs absorb the woman before him intently from behind the burning cigar and the crime lord nods his head toward Ash in accord, a disarming smirk upon his face, "Eson." he responds. "Mr. Eson." his basic is with an Etti accent, suggesting in some way that he is a local. The surroundings are full of hedges and are higher up on this platform; artemis trees dot the area sporadically. No other sentients seem to be in sight, other than Eson sitting on the bench. Her smile turns to a smirk as he speaks. "Mr. Eson," she nods to the bench, "May I have a seat?" Putting name to face, she logs it away for further recollection. She moves closer to the bench, noting the apparent lack of sentients in the vicinity. "And why would you want to have an audience with me, Mr. Eson?" She politely waits for the affirmative before taking a seat. "Because the Family does not take lightly to the abuse and torment of its own by your lover Mr. Tritus, my dear. Because perhaps you, unlike Gundark Industry's proprietor, have ears to hear, and eyes to see." The words are laid out plainly, the tone of Eson's voice calm and his eyes confident and knowing from behind the lit cigar. "Please, sit." he bids, a stern quality subtly woven into the demeanour of his otherwise casual voice. Standing as he begins to speak, there is a slight twitch of the muscles on the left side of Ash's face as he mentions her lover. Keeping her expression calm, he nods slowly as she takes a seat. Turning so that she may better view him, her hands delicately upon her lap. No stranger to cleaning up the messes that Tritus has managed to get himself into, she waits a moment before speaking to the man who speaks for the Family. "And who has Mr. Vaticus set his sights upon?" she inquires softly. She thinks back to Thrask and his Twi’lek lover. Certainly not her again, so perhaps another. Taking a breath she watches the elder Twi’lek before her, allowing him to take the lead in this discussion. "Perhaps you know her. A'estshy Nubiari." says Tyy'sun, leaning in slightly as though divulging a secret. He ashes the cigar to the grassy turf at their feet, tapping it with his finger tip so that the ash is flung downward. "You see, Mr. Vaticus does not understand that the Twi'leks of New Kala'uun and Zhao Systems take our Family values very, very seriously. If he cannot respect our household, then how shall we respect his?" Ire dwells deeply within the crimson Twi'lek, his frown seeming to crease his features dramatically as though it is a position the skin is quite used to. Slowly she nods, "I know of A'estshy. When I learnt her story, what Tritus did," she shakes her head, closing her eyes. Slowly she reopens her eyes, "I was disgusted, truth spoken." She looks at him, taking in the ire of his eyes with her own cool turquoise eyes; she does not shrink, but remains calm. "It has become my understanding that it is by her wishes that Barrien Thrask has decided to cease his actions of acquiring Tritus' head. Tritus also has, at least for now, decided to leave Thrask and A'estshy alone. Stirring the pot will force him to act out, and perhaps do something that will be regretted by those who could not stop him." She speaks slowly so that the information may have time to set into the scowling Twi’lek’s mind. Far from stupid, she knows when she may be in danger and her mind races through the possible scenarios. Only sign of her thinking is the slight setting of her jaw in determination. "A'estshy may speak for Barrien Thrask. But neither she nor the Quarren speak for the Family." News of the cease-fire seems to do little to quell the intensity of Eson's gaze. He thumbs his headset comlink, "proceed." he says, before turning his head to look once again into Ash's eyes, "The answer to the question is that we shall not respect the house of Tritus, or Gundark Industrial." he explains, his voice growing louder and angrier. "We shall likewise Not endure the bounties of his Hutt masters." his black gloved hand tosses the cigar to the glass below and then dips into his cloak. "We shall respond in kind." his hand grasps something within the folds of his cloak, his other hand continuing to rest atop the length of the bench. Ash remains seated, not afraid of the Twi’lek’s ire, but at the word of 'proceed' she glares back at him. As his hand goes into the folds of his cloak, she stands, alert for the approach of others, relying on her peripheral vision, and grips the edge of her cloak, ready to use it to entrap a thrown weapon. "Your sources are behind," she says low, "I am an ex-Gundark employee." How she hates getting caught up in that man's messes. Her other hand remains in sight, as though part of her hopes that it will only be another piece of paper to be delivered to the man. Without thought her body has shifted into a defensive position, ready to take on whatever retribution gets directed her way. The crime lord had been cooking the timer on the glop grenade for a few seconds already, his expression frozen in that mask of anger and tension, his eyes boring into Ash. The grenade slips from his cloak, grasped in his hand and tossed at the now standing woman's feet! It explodes almost immediately, the dark green adhesive substance detonating in an area effect! Her eyes grow large, recognising the grenade, she swears, rather well for a woman of apparent intelligence and dives away from it. Rolling up to her feet, her hands come to her waist and she draws her weapons, now ready for a fight and wanting to get back to her vessel and wishing that the pilot of said vessel was here. The metal of the daggers' blade flash in the sun's rays. Her turquoise eyes take in her surroundings and she bolts for the nearest way off of this platform. Her cloak flows wonderfully behind her as she runs towards the edge, seeking either clear stairs or, of all things a place where the drop will not kill her. Tyy'sun watches the warrior flee, his voice catching him as he leans back, resuming his previous posture on the bench. His laugh follows her footfalls and he realizes fully this lover of Tritus is no weakling and briefly admires his taste in people. From the sky, behind the reclining crime lord comes a sleek black stretch speeder, its repulse engines humming with muffled energy, the craft coming down to float on the hedge and tree strewn platform. Tyy'sun slowly stands from the bench and proceeds to walk towards the speeder, his own cloak flapping in the breeze of the repulsor drives. "The Telgorn assault shuttle has been tagged with the tracking device from long range at the port." says a voice over Eson's comlink as he goes. The crime lord nods to himself. Let her flee to her lover then. Maffi will bide its time.